


take the turnaround (i'm the exit you're looking for)

by lovelivesinthedream



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 13:05:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4393061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelivesinthedream/pseuds/lovelivesinthedream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kyungsoo moves into Junmyeon's house with Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Jongdae and Zitao, he gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take the turnaround (i'm the exit you're looking for)

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be longer, but it turned into this. It's different than I planned, and it is sort of different from the prompt, but I hope you'll like it! Originally written for onemorechansoo writing fest on livejournal. It was so much fun!

 

  


“Don’t make me regret this,” Junmyeon says as he hitches his designer bag further up his shoulder. He’s frowning like he already does.

  


“It’ll be fine!” the stranger shouts with a wide smile that reveals unnaturally straight, white teeth. “We’ll take perfect care of your house, and you’ll be able to relax and have fun on the beach!” He bounces on his toes, making his long legs stretch and bend in ways that create the illusion of even more height—Kyungsoo scowls. “Just think of all the writing you’ll get done!”

  


The driver standing at the front of the sleek black car clears his throat and points toward his watch. Junmyeon heaves a sigh that speaks of immense skepticism as he hesitantly holds out two identical silver keys.

  


The giant drapes himself over Junmyeon’s tinier frame. “THANK-”

  


“Wait! Listen, guys,” Junmyeon talks over him with his face buried somewhere in the guy’s chest. It’s hard to make out what he’s saying with the words all muffled by fabric and the wall of idiot blocking him from Kyungsoo. “I’m letting you guys live here rent free until I finish the next three books in the series. There are only a few things that I ask in return: don’t leave the door unlocked when nobody is home, don’t put holes in the walls, don’t burn the house down, and please, for the love of God,” he says, pushing the tall guy far enough away to give them both a very serious look, “don’t, under _any_ circumstances, let Baekhyun move in.”

  


“Who’s Bae-” Kyungsoo frowns in confusion before he's cut off with a loud protest.

  


“But!!!” He pouts, pushes out his lower lip and makes large, puppy dog eyes. “Baekhyun’s brother just got married a couple of weeks ago, and the newlyweds have to stay with Baek’s parents until their house is finished, so it’s really crowded! And!!!” he continues quickly when Junmyeon’s eyes begin to shimmer with sympathy. “And you know he can’t get any work done there because his mom always needs his help with chores since her arthritis started acting up again, and the doctor told his dad to take it easy, so-”

  


“Okay!” Junmyeon yells as tears threaten to fall from his eyes. Kyungsoo barely holds in his scoff of disbelief. Junmyeon is too pure and good for this world. “I didn’t realize Baekhyun was having such a difficult time. Of course he can move in here!”

  


“You’re the best!” he traps Junmyeon in his unnaturally long arms, picking him up and twirling until Junmyeon is laughing loudly. Kyungsoo thinks the whole thing is sort of loud and obnoxious, but the stress lines have disappeared from around his friend's eyes and the edges of his mouth, so he stops himself from rolling his eyes.

  


The driver steps cautiously around the car like he's afraid to interrupt but really needs to get Junmyeon in the car already. "Uh, not to disturb you, sir, but we need to be going if you're going to make the flight."

  


"I know, Kris. Just give me one more minute."

  


The driver nods and quietly settles himself in the car to give them privacy. Junmyeon hugs them both and promises to check in when he can. Kyungsoo isn't going to cry because he's not an over emotional idiot, but he is sad to see his friend leave even if it's only a couple hours of distance between them.

  


After the gate closes behind the car as it pulls away, the stranger turns to him and holds out a large hand. "I'm Park Chanyeol. Let's live together well, roomie."

  


"Do Kyungsoo," he admits, shaking Chanyeol's hand halfheartedly. He refuses to tilt his head back just to look at this weirdo’s face. Stupid giant.

  


Kyungsoo knows he's going to regret this.

  


*****

  


The house is beautiful: five bedrooms, three bathrooms, two studies, a dining room, a state of the art kitchen and an indoor pool. He's always known Junmyeon's wealthy, him being a bestselling author _and_ having been born into old money, but Kyungsoo doesn't realize just how rich until he's living in Junmyeon's house. While Junmyeon stays at his vacation house. On a private beach somewhere beautiful and peaceful. Kyungsoo can’t even comprehend that kind of wealth.

  


Kyungsoo is introduced to Baekhyun and Jongdae the day after Junmyeon leaves. Baekhyun has a raspy voice and crass jokes. Jongdae laughs loudly and uninhibitedly. They're both unfairly attractive and are obviously close to Chanyeol. After the initial introduction, the three disappear to pick out bedrooms and mess around, leaving him alone in the study by himself with only the echoes of their laughter drifting in the air. Kyungsoo doesn't feel left out just because they can communicate with the simple raise of an eyebrow or crinkle of the nose. Definitely not.

  


Zitao moves in a week after the rest of them. He shows up on the doorstep first thing in the morning, standing in his tight leather pants and an airy white shirt like he's posing for a photo-shoot. Kyungsoo, still clad in his t-shirt with the holes in the hem line and _Prince of Tennis_ boxers, turns beet red and tries to shut the door in the handsome stranger's face.

  


"Hey!" Zitao cries as he uses his foot to block the door from shutting. His attractive smirk transforms into a childish scowl. "Junmyeon said you'd be the nice one."

  


Kyungsoo opens his mouth to protest, but Zitao is already pushing his way inside. He has a name-brand suitcase trailing behind him, and his sunglasses hang precariously from his back pocket while he circles around, taking in the house. He whistles appreciatively before turning back to Kyungsoo.

  


"So which room is mine?"

  


"There's an empty room down the hall and to the left." He shrugs, still half-asleep and ready to be done with this conversation until he's had two cups of coffee and a shower. Zitao watches him expectantly like it's Kyungsoo's job to show him where to go. He growls in frustration and points vaguely in the right direction.

  


Zitao sighs as if Kyungsoo is the one being inconvenient, and then he noisily sets off to find his room. The wheels of his bag hit the tile in the hall with a clatter; it sounds like a bag of marbles being dragged across the floor. The procession echoes all the way to the kitchen where Kyungsoo goes about setting up the coffee pot.

  


“What the hell is that?”Chanyeol asks as he stumbles into the room. His voice is deep and husky from sleep. His hair and clothes are ruffled in a way that Kyungsoo can admit, objectively, is cute. He slumps against the table, head resting sleepily in the cradle of his long arms.

  


“Our new roommate, I think,” Kyungsoo explains quietly. Two mugs sit side by side while he waits for the coffee to finish; three spoons of sugar and cream are added to each cup. He pauses for a second and then shrugs, not really caring if Chanyeol likes his coffee that way or not. He's lucky Kyungsoo is making any for him at all. "I'm pretty sure his name is Zitao--Junmyeon mentioned it when he called yesterday, but I-"

  


Chanyeol's breathing evenly and deeply, face smooth and relaxed as he sleeps. It can't be comfortable, and yet, he appears perfectly at ease. His eyelashes are long, dark and beautiful, gently brushing his cheeks. Pink lips part on a small breath. Large ears stick out from the mess of dark brown hair. It should make him look dumb, but instead, it’s oddly endearing.

  


Kyungsoo shakes himself when he realizes he's standing there and staring like a creep. Frowning in annoyance, he sets down the cup of steaming heaven slightly out of Chanyeol's reach so it won't be knocked over, but still close enough that he'll know it's meant for him when he wakes up.

  


Maybe he is the nice one after all.

  


*****

  


“What’re you watching?”

  


Kyungsoo jumps, accidentally tossing the popcorn all over his lap and the floor. He scowls at the mess before remembering what surprised him in the first place. He turns to his left with wide, unblinking eyes. There’s a girl with short auburn hair, ears decorated with enough piercings to give Zitao a run for his money, and she’s wearing a purple sleeveless shirt and knee-length black shorts. She’s really pretty, but she’s also really not supposed to randomly materialize beside him at four in the morning.

  


“Why are you here?! How did you even get in?!” He stands up abruptly and gropes around his pocket for his phone. “I’m calling the police!”

  


“Hey, whoa, slow down!” the girl exclaims with a playful laugh. However, Kyungsoo is not amused?? This is not a laughing situation??He begins dialing, and she waves toward the kitchen. “Jongdae said you’re jumpy.”

  


Kyungsoo is kind of sick of people saying things about him.

  


“Jongdae’s an idiot,” he mumbles, surly and a little embarrassed because Jongdae’s stepping out of the kitchen in his blue and silver briefs that leave no room for imagination. There’s a series of hickeys dotted along his collarbone and ribcage, one almost hidden under the edge of his briefs. A taller man with dark hair and a fancy grey suit slaps Jongdae on the ass, smirking and dimpling brightly enough to light up the whole room.

  


“ _Yixing,_ ” Jongdae gasps in a mock scandalized tone. “You’ll scar poor Kyungsoo’s innocent psyche.” He then ruins any pretense of decorum by grabbing the ends of the tie hanging from Yixing’s open collar and pulling him down into a filthy kiss.

  


“What about me?” the girl cuts in with a fake pout. Jongdae and Yixing separate long enough to beckon her over. Kyungsoo can’t help but notice that Yixing’s belt is undone, and his shirt is barely covering the fact that he’s going commando.

  


Jongdae makes a ‘come hither’ hand gesture that Kyungsoo is pretty sure people only get away with in dramas. “Come on, Amber. Baek’s probably getting impatient, anyway.” He grabs Yixing’s and Amber’s hands and tugs them back through the long hallway toward Baekhyun’s room.

  


Kyungsoo shakes his head in disbelief, and does his best to ignore the suspiciously wet sounds coming from that side of the house. _Maybe it’s a leaky pipe,_ he thinks. It’s a distant and unrealistic hope. He rubs his eyes a few times and blinks. Is it possible he’s had one of those lucid dreams? Did he fall asleep while watching _Kuroko No Basuke_?

  


That theory is dashed to pieces because he accidentally burns himself on the stove while making scrambled eggs a few minutes later, and it hurts like hell. So, _not_ asleep then.

  


Chanyeol stumbles in while Kyungsoo is busy swearing to himself and rinsing his burn under cold water. He’s obviously still half-asleep, but he takes one look at Kyungsoo before gently taking the burned hand and examining the wound. Kyungsoo tries to pull his hand away, and Chanyeol gives him a flat look, refusing to let go.

  


“It’s nothing, really.”

  


“I know. It’ll probably be all healed up by tomorrow,” Chanyeol agrees. He carefully blows against Kyungsoo’s burn, drying it and bringing a different kind of searing heat to Kyungsoo’s cheeks in the process. He reaches up with his long arms and gets a band-aid from the cupboard above the stove. The jerk doesn’t even have to stretch, whereas, Kyungsoo would have had to climb up on a chair.

  


Kyungsoo wants to put the ointment and band-aid on by himself because Chanyeol’s body throws off a lot of heat, and Kyungsoo is trying really hard to resist the urge to slip forward and burrow in Chanyeol’s comfy looking arms. In retrospect, that anime marathon probably wasn’t a good idea; he always gets clingy when he’s overtired.

  


Chanyeol’s touch is soft and comforting as he finishes up. He’s intently staring down at Kyungsoo’s hand, which looks small and fragile in Chanyeol’s sturdy palms, and Kyungsoo is drawn in by the curve of Chanyeol’s lower lip and his inky eyelashes.

  


“So are you going to tell me why you’re up at 4am, making scrambled eggs?” he asks, still inspecting Kyungsoo’s hand. Kyungsoo scowls and looks away.

  


The phone call he’d accidently overheard the other day sticks out in his mind like a bad splinter. Junmyeon had asked Chanyeol to look after Kyungsoo, to make sure he adjusts well—him being a relatively private person thrust into living in close quarters with three very open people. Just because he was the youngest and the shortest, everyone always treated him like a child. Did they even realize that he was older than Zitao? That Chanyeol barely had three months on Kyungsoo? And Jongdae was hardly any taller. Certainly not enough to matter. Not that height _ever_ matters.

  


_Except when retrieving band-aids and tending to wounds,_ his traitorous thoughts cut in, and it’s disappointing that his internal monologue sounds all impressed and heart-eyed. Gross.

  


“You’re not my father, Chanyeol. I don’t have a bedtime, and I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

  


Chanyeol drops his hand instantly, frowning and rearing back like Kyungsoo’s struck him. “Jesus, that’s not what I meant.” He shakes his head and makes to leave the room.

  


That’s not what he meant to happen. It wasn’t supposed to come out so harsh—he wasn’t trying to drive Chanyeol away. For some reason, he really doesn’t want Chanyeol to leave. Doesn’t want to eat another meal alone, all by himself in a fancy, giant kitchen meant for more than one.

  


“There’s,” he tries--clears his throat and stares resolutely at the pan on the stove. He tries again. “There’s enough for two. If you’re hungry, I mean. It’s fine if you’re not--”

  


A stool scrapes across the dark tile as Chanyeol sits down at the counter. Kyungsoo can’t quite keep the small, pleased smile off his face.

  


From the corner of his eye, he can see Chanyeol smiling too.

  


*****

  


Baekhyun’s job is a mystery that grates on Kyungsoo’s nerves.

  


It’s not that he really cares what Baekhyun does for a living; it’s none of his business, and he and Baekhyun aren’t exactly close enough that Kyungsoo should know. It’s just that there’s so much mystery and secrecy surrounding it that Kyungsoo can’t help but be curious. His other roommates don’t give him stupid answers when he asks them what they do, but Baekhyun made up some ridiculous crap.

  


(“I’m a sex therapist,” he’d answered the question with a smirk and suggestively raised eyebrows. Sensing the imminent pick-up line, Kyungsoo had left the room, praying for enough restraint not to punch Baekhyun’s cute, smug face.)

  


Zitao, unsurprisingly, is a model. His schedule is weird, mostly made up of odd hours that he spends sleeping and eating before sauntering out the door to a fitting or photo-shoot--Kyungsoo sort of zones out whenever Zitao starts getting too specific with the details.

  


Also unsurprisingly, Zitao shows up during Kyungsoo’s late night anime marathons at least once a week, walking in with his clothes in pristine condition, but his hair all sex-rumpled and his lips swollen in a tell-tale manner. Kyungsoo has the split second urge to spray him with Lysol before he can sit on the couch until he recalls, with a dark blush on his cheeks and a tightening in his gut, all the notches in his own bedpost he’d made back in college.

  


He is no stranger to the walk of shame, even if it has been a couple of years since he’s taken the familiar steps himself.

  


Zitao prefers romance/slice-of-life/comedies instead of the sports and action animes Kyungsoo enjoys, but he doesn’t make fun of Kyungsoo for crying when Haru and Rin finally swim together. So Kyungsoo doesn’t mind sharing his couch at three in the morning, or letting Zitao pick _Ouran High School Host Club_ for the fifth time. It becomes nice to have someone to share his interests with, and sometimes he even pays attention when Zitao talks about the pros and cons of silk and synthetic silk.

  


Jongdae is a secretary at a private medical practice. It’s a strangely normal occupation for such a loud and colorful person--honestly, Kyungsoo has a hard time imagining Jongdae staying in one spot long enough to do anything short of bartending or DJing in a seedy club somewhere. Jongdae and Baekhyun leave together in neatly pressed clothes at 7am, five days a week. He vaguely wonders if Jongdae drops Baekhyun off at an internet café or a noraebang somewhere on the way to work, and this is all some elaborate joke they're trying to pull on Kyungsoo. Each day their slim shoulders are accentuated in tailored dress shirts and expensive looking suit jackets, their narrow waists highlighted with belts with shiny, polished silver buckles.

  


They are pretty hot first thing in the morning when Kyungsoo’s just tired enough to forget they’re more annoying than sexy. He gives them an A+ for effort.

  


Chanyeol’s attractiveness is, unfortunately, impossible to forget no matter how exhausted Kyungsoo is. His bright smile is all teeth and sunshine even at that time of day. And he wears black framed glasses when he first wakes up, similar to the pair Kyungsoo wears so he won’t be completely blind, but on Chanyeol they frame his face in a way that makes him look more mature, more striking. It’s very distracting.

  


His voice is especially low and gravelly until he takes a shower. When he emerges from the bathroom, fresh-faced and without his glasses, he always smells like mint toothpaste and cologne. His cheeks are flushed, and his hair is expertly styled up off his face, but it’s still damp around the edges. His clothes are nice and comfortable looking. Much more relaxed than their other roommates work attire. The dark jeans make his long legs seem endless, and the sweater hugs his thin but well-toned chest and arms exceptionally well. It’s unfairly handsome.

  


Kyungsoo is sure that Chanyeol’s students, more likely than not, would agree with him.

  


The two have breakfast together nearly every morning. Kyungsoo at that time is getting in a small meal to appease his stomach while he hibernates until three or four when he’ll have to get up for his shift at the Megabox. The 7pm to 3am shift at the 24 hour movie theater is a quiet, easy job that is definitely a waste of Kyungsoo’s fancy college degree (as his older brother always refers to it), but he’s the night manager there now. The pay is good enough (but _not_ so great that he can afford a decent apartment in the city—thank god for Junmyeon’s kindness), and it makes him happy. Isn’t that what life is about? Being happy?

  


Chanyeol snorts into his orange juice, and Kyungsoo abruptly realizes he’d asked that aloud. Wiping the mess of pulp dripping down his chin, Chanyeol smiles a crooked grin, the one that makes his eyes into mismatched crescents. “Did you learn that from one of your _shows_?” he asks, all sly and teasing. There’s no real menace to it, though, so Kyungsoo’s hackles don’t rise. It’s odd that he doesn’t mind Chanyeol’s teasing.

  


“You have the complete series of _One Piece_ on dvd _and_ in manga. Don’t try to act like you’re not a giant nerd, too,” Kyungsoo says with a sleepy smile playing at the corner of his lips. He ducks his head, cheeks heating pleasantly, when Chanyeol makes a loud protest and tries to ruffle his hair.

  


If he doesn’t try all that hard to avoid Chanyeol’s large hand cradling his head, and the talented fingers raking through his hair, well, nobody needs to know.

  


Chanyeol’s laugh quiets after a moment, but his hand stays in place. Their gazes meet; a warm, comforting blanket of affection settles in his gut. Kyungsoo hasn’t felt like this in a long time—maybe not since the intense crush he’d had on Luhan back in his senior year of college. That hadn’t amounted to anything more than a few stolen kisses in the back of the library, and a mutual hand job in the soccer team’s locker room. The not-relationship had ended in one extremely satisfying night in Luhan’s bed, and then a very chilly walk back to his own dorm in the predawn light. Not his finest moment, but well worth the slight hitch in his step and twinge in his back. Luhan had moved back to Beijing after graduation.

  


The way he’d felt about Luhan then doesn’t even compare to the feelings that are flaring to life for Chanyeol now. It’s like a small ember, a flicker of light in a coal bed, that is only fanning out and growing by the way Chanyeol so persistently inserts himself into Kyungsoo’s space. It should be annoying—and, honestly, most of the time it is—but Kyungsoo finds himself liking the way Chanyeol waves his hands for emphasis, the way he clings with his long arms, and the way he yells for Kyungsoo a million times even when Kyungsoo is blatantly ignoring him. Truth be told, sometimes Kyungsoo ignores him just to see how long he can keep Chanyeol calling out for him. It’s unaccountably nice to have all that spastic warmth and playful affection focused solely on him.

  


He thinks maybe Chanyeol might feel the same. The way his eyes soften around the edges seems telling. Maybe Kyungsoo should take a chance. He licks his lips and swallows, curling his fingers into his soft pajama pants under the table. Takes a deep breath, heartbeat racing so loudly that he can’t hear his own inhale, and opens his mouth to push the words past his teeth.

  


Right as Supreme Team’s “Dang Dang Dang” blares from Chanyeol’s phone and bursts the moment like a pin in a balloon.

  


“Oh!” Chanyeol reaches across the table, his hand falling from Kyungsoo’s hair. The sound stops when he swipes his thumb across the screen. “That’s my alarm. I should get going, or I’ll be late to work. It’s percussion day; the kids will be thrilled.” He stands and gathers up his bag slowly, almost deliberately drawn out. “Don’t worry,” he says with a grin that is more subdued than usual. “You can continue to judge my nerditude after your slumber, your majesty.” He bows deeply, overdramatic, as he walks backward out of the kitchen.

  


Kyungsoo’s shoulders slump in defeat.

  


*****

  


Baekhyun runs into Kyungsoo outside the front door on Saturday. Literally runs into him.

  


Kyungsoo is checking the mail that has piled up in the mailbox. Junmyeon’s mail doesn’t always find its way to his beach house; apparently, the post office still isn’t forwarding it correctly. With the four new residents, even after living in the house for nearly five months, they have a lot of problems with the mail. It doesn’t help that Kyungsoo is the only person that ever checks the box out by the iron gates. It piles up for days while he waits to see if anyone else will do it, and in the end, he’s the only person that ever seems to remember the mailbox exists.

  


So he’s checking the mail right inside the iron gates, hands filled with a week’s worth of envelopes, when he’s suddenly shoved from behind. The dark grey, well maintained driveway is littered with junk mail, the electricity bill, a perfume laden postcard addressed to Zitao, and Jongdae’s paycheck.

  


Kyungsoo turns slowly around to glare at whoever dared to run into him. He’s wholly unsurprised that it is Baekhyun standing there guiltily. His suit jacket is thrown haphazardly over one shoulder, his shiny, black dress shoes are held in his hand, and his hair is sticking up in a hundred directions. There’s a red lipstick stain smudged on the popped collar of his white button down.

  


“Late night?” Kyungsoo asks dryly. It’s obvious what Baekhyun had spent the night doing. Kyungsoo doesn’t really care what Baekhyun gets up to in his free time as long as he’s not around to bother him and is being safe in whatever he chooses to do to occupy himself—okay, _maybe_ Kyungsoo’s grown a little fond of his roommates. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy giving Baekhyun a difficult time, though.

  


Baekhyun shrugs with one shoulder. “I had a client that needed an emergency session. It went kind of late.”

  


Kyungsoo rolls his eyes heavenward and silently asks God why he has to deal with such a brat. The sparse clouds dotting out the last of the straggling stars don’t provide any sympathy or an answer.

  


“And what exactly is the kind of emergency a sex therapist has to deal with?” he asks in a flat voice.

Baekhyun grins mischievously and inches closer, hand to the side of his mouth as if he’s imparting a deep secret. Kyungsoo already regrets asking.

  


“I’m not supposed to say, you know because of doctor/patient confidentiality, but I can tell you that the situation was,” he pauses, eyes nearly disappearing with the smile pushing his cheeks up, barely holding in the delight at his own cleverness, “ _hard_.”

  


Kyungsoo groans as Baekhyun cackles, doubling over as he laughs. As recompense for that terrible pun, Kyungsoo feels no shame in making Baekhyun pick up all the mail and sort through it on his own. He even manages to make Baekhyun go to the post office later that day to re-mail Junmyeon’s stuff with the correct address.

  


*****

  


“Soo, can you get the flashlight from Baekhyun’s room, please?” Jongdae requests as he tries to find the candles on the shelf in the hall closet. It’s impossible to find anything with the power outage that left the house in darkness. What a great way to spend a Saturday night.

  


“Where is it?”

  


The vague shape of Jongdae emerges from behind the equally vague shape of the closet door. “In the drawer of the table on the left side of his bed.” He says it so matter-of-factly that Kyungsoo can’t help but wonder why Jongdae knows the minute details of Baekhyun’s room. Kyungsoo couldn’t even tell you what Junmyeon’s favorite color is, but Jongdae knows where Baekhyun keeps his flashlight. It’s oddly disappointing to think about.

  


Kyungsoo is a good friend even if he doesn’t know useless facts like that.

  


He nods in acquiescence before remembering that Jongdae can’t see him. Shrugging, he figures that the sound of his footsteps moving down the hall is probably answer enough. The room smells relatively clean; at least, there’s no obvious odor to indicate he should worry about stepping in something gross. One can never tell when it comes to Baekhyun. The room is pitch black, but he assumes that the layout is probably similar to his own room and uses that knowledge to shuffle forward. His toe loses the battle against the leg of Baekhyun’s bed. “Damn it!” he hisses.

  


Jongdae’s evil laughter echoes back from the hall.

  


When he flails around until his hands land on the table by the bed, it only takes him a moment to open the drawer. His fingers drag over a thin, cool piece of metal. The odds and ends clatter around, a thumbtack pricking him in the process, but eventually he finds the flashlight. The white beam brightens the mysterious objects of the drawer. He picks up the thin piece of metal, curious despite his own personal motto against snooping. The light reflects off the black and silver, and it illuminates a small sticker on the front.

  


_'Broke Baek, Mount Him,'_ the curvy black writing reads on what is now obviously a USB drive.

  


Kyungsoo drops it like a poisonous snake, and wipes his hand against his jeans repeatedly in the hopes of ripping off enough skin cells that he can be sure whatever germs he’d just contracted are obliterated.

  


When he gets back to the closet, Jongdae’s lips are curled up like a kitten’s mouth. His eyes glitter with barely contained mirth. The jackass totally knows where Baekhyun keeps his homemade porn. He _definitely_ knew Kyungsoo would find it while looking for the flashlight. In fact, Kyungsoo wouldn’t put it past Jongdae to turn off the power just to make this happen.

  


As such, he doesn’t feel bad for hitting Jongdae in the head with the flashlight on his way to the bathroom to wash his hands fifty times.

  


*****

  


“Who’s the babe in Chanyeol’s room?” Zitao stage whispers when Kyungsoo wakes up in the afternoon. Zitao is draped across the couch in the main living room like a large cat. Jongdae is curled up in the recliner like a puppy. Kyungsoo is living with a bunch of animals.

  


Baekhyun walks out of the kitchen, throwing grapes in the air and catching them with his obnoxious mouth. They all laugh when one hits Baekhyun righteously in the eye. He plops himself down on Zitao, and Zitao, bless his soul, pushes Baekhyun to the floor with one hand.

  


Kyungsoo doesn’t wipe away a proud tear. Barely.

  


Jongdae gives in to Baekhyun’s pouting and waves him over, graciously offering his own lap as a seat. There is plenty of seating. They have _two_ living rooms. When Kyungsoo helpfully points out that Baekhyun can go sit by himself in the other room, Jongdae sticks his tongue childishly and wraps his arms around Baekhyun’s waist.

  


Baekhyun is unbearably smug.

  


Zitao huffs and sits up, swinging his long, leather clad legs around to rest his feet on the plush carpet. He even makes that look like a magazine cover.

  


“Seriously. Who’s the hot chick in Chanyeol’s bedroom?” There’s a petulant whine in his voice that contradicts the lethally hot plush to his lips. He’s such a man-child. Kyungsoo honestly doesn’t know how Minseok, Zitao’s agent, puts up with it.

  


Kyungsoo finally quits judging his roommates existence long enough to register what Zitao’s asking. There’s a girl in Chanyeol’s room? Why would there be a girl in his room? Isn’t there—aren’t they mutually pining for each other? Kyungsoo is _pretty sure_ that’s what they’ve been doing for the last few months. Chanyeol hasn’t brought anyone home since that really thin, tall blond kid with shoulders wide enough to land a plane on. And even before that, Chanyeol had only brought back a couple of one night stands. The blond kid, Ocean or Sehun or something, is the only one Chanyeol has ever brought back more than once, and that was at least eight weeks ago. Not that Kyungsoo’s keeping track or anything.

  


So why in the hell does Chanyeol have a girl waiting for him in his room?? He doesn’t even get back from the school for another two hours.

  


“Calm down there, lover boy,” Baekhyun chides with a smirk. Kyungsoo’s heart stops until he realizes Baekhyun is talking to Zitao. “Seulgi has been in love with Chanyeol since she was like six. You don’t have a chance.”

  


Zitao narrows his eyes and rakes his hair back with one hand. His eyes are dark and dangerous. It’s super hot.

  


Baekhyun drops a grape right out of his mouth, and Zitao grins triumphantly. “I _always_ have a chance.” He winks and sways his hips as he walks out of the room to get ready for an interview for _GQ_.

  


Jongdae clears his throat in the dazed silence that follows. Baekhyun shamelessly readjusts himself in his pants. They share a look, communicating silently, and it’s really annoying how Kyungsoo still hasn’t figured out how they can talk without saying anything. And maybe, mostly, he still feels left out because he can’t do that with them.

  


Anyway.

  


The point is that he now has a hundred questions about this intrusive Seulgi person, and he needs immediate answers. Unfortunately, Baekhyun and Jongdae are already making out in the hallway. He sees a nipple before giving up and retreating to his own room where he can fume angrily as he gets prepared for work.

  


*****

  


“W-who’s your favorite character from _Haikyuu_?” a hesitant voice asks him later that night. He glances up from the schedule he’s arranging, standing behind the snack counter to occupy his time until the next movie lets out.

  


“What?” he replies, brows furrowed and face blank.

  


The handsome stranger’s ears turn pink as Kyungsoo stares back. He unsurely points toward the pin stuck on the strap of Kyungsoo’s apron.

  


“Your favorite character? F-from _Haikyuu_?”

  


“Oh,” Kyungsoo says, nodding in understanding. “I like Toru best; he sort of reminds me of someone I know,” he adds softly. So much for not thinking about Chanyeol tonight.

  


“That’s cool. I mean, I like Kenma and Yu more than Toru, but he’s cool too.” The stranger smiles, and it’s more genuine now, less tentative. “My name’s Jongin. Have you seen the new Studio Ghibli movie yet?”

  


*****

  


Kyungsoo surprises himself by inviting Jongin back after his shift. It’s not that he’s expecting anything to happen, or even that he _wants_ something to happen. Jongin is nice, they have similar interests, and it’s really fun to talk to him about all the shows that Zitao isn’t interested in.

  


It’s fun that Jongin can argue about character development or shading technique and actually know what he’s talking about to back it up. It’s fun that Jongin shyly places his hand near Kyungsoo’s on the counter, lets their shoulders brush when they’re standing, and then lets their knees press together when they finally sit side by side behind the counter.

  


Jongin is fun.

  


Being confused about whether Chanyeol is interested is not fun. Wondering what Seugli means for them is not fun. Picturing Chanyeol moving out to rent an apartment with her, or worse, Junmyeon saying Seugli should move is with them is. Not. Fun.

  


Jongin _is_ fun.

  


Jongin kisses easily and without any kind of tricks or coaxing. He’s shy at first, but he gains confidence quickly. Kyungsoo is just beginning to work on sliding Jongin’s shirt up to his navel when the moment comes to a screeching halt.

  


“The living room is a communal area, and it is not intended for any kind of nasty sexual act,” Chanyeol’s rough voice crashes through the air as he recites one of the house-rules Kyungsoo had insisted on . He’s angry. Kyungsoo has never seen Chanyeol truly upset before, but this is definitely anger. “Just because you made the rules doesn’t mean you don’t have to follow them.”

  


His voice is a reprimand and a challenge all at once. There’s a sharp edge to his words, and an ugly curl to his smile. The arms crossed over his chest act like a wall between them, distancing himself from Kyungsoo.

  


It hurts. Kyungsoo has never responded well to being hurt.

  


He turns to Jongin and apologizes as he asks him to leave. “I had fun, but now is not really the time. You have my number, though, and obviously, you know where I live. Maybe we won’t be interrupted next time.” He’s looking a Jongin’s handsome face when he says it, but the words aren't meant for him. They’re meant for Chanyeol. He vindictively hopes they’re barbed enough to sting.

  


Jongin opens his mouth to say something, but Chanyeol cuts him off with a deep grunt. Jongin is tall; however, Chanyeol is taller. He crowds behind Kyungsoo and glares until Jongin nods once and places a daring kiss on Kyungsoo’s lips before slipping out the door.

  


As soon as the door clicks shut behind Jongin’s retreating form, Kyungsoo finds himself pushed down into the chair. It’s a large chair, oversized, but the fit is still tight when Chanyeol places his knees on either side of Kyungsoo’s legs and straddles his lap. He’s breathing heavily, angrily, but his touch is gentle as he curves his back and leans down, pressing their foreheads together.

  


Kyungsoo’s first impulse is to shove Chanyeol away because he’s really rather pissed off. His second impulse is to pull Chanyeol closer and kiss him breathless. Luckily, he’s shocked into stillness and can’t do either.

  


“What were you doing?” Chanyeol asks, quietly. It’s almost so quiet that Kyungsoo isn’t sure he was meant to hear. Louder this time, Chanyeol continues, voice ragged. “What were you doing, Soo? I thought we were—don’t you like _me_? Don’t you _want_ me?”

  


He sounds wrecked. He sounds lost and vulnerable and all sorts of things that Kyungsoo has never heard his loud, cheerful friend be. He appreciates that Chanyeol isn’t trying to hide his uncertainty behind his usual happy mask.

  


“You know that I do.” It’s all he can say, all that he will admit to right now. “What about you? Don’t you have Seulgi?” His voice is bitter and brittle.

  


Chanyeol sighs heavily, shoulder slumping. “Is that what this is about? She’s just a friend. My mom and her mom went to school together, and we were forced to hangout a lot as kids. I guess she sort of had a crush on me?” He looks away and rubs the back of his neck self-consciously. “She brought over food from my mom and decided to wait for me. When I got home and she was still here, I realized I needed to let her down. I don’t have feelings like that for her." Even in the dim light, the red of his cheeks and ears is unmistakable. His eyes glitter with intent before he glances away again. "There’s someone else.”

  


Kyungsoo swallows and tries to quiet the unfurling hope in his chest. “Who?”

  


Instead of answering with words, Chanyeol makes a disbelieving sound and pulls away far enough to stare down at Kyungsoo. The anger has passed, but his eyes are still determined and serious. Kyungsoo is struck once again by his unique charm; all his roommates are hot, but Chanyeol transcends that. He’s oddly beautiful.

  


The kiss is fast and deep, dirty. Chanyeol licks into his mouth with wide strokes of his tongue, sweeping in and wiping out all traces of Jongin. One hand tangles in Kyungsoo’s hair, carding through gently once before threading his fingers in the black strands and tugging until Kyungsoo’s head is tilted further back.

  


He doesn’t even try to stop the pleased groan that escapes him when Chanyeol descends to suck and bite under his jaw, dragging teeth over the delicate skin of his throat, and licking the edge of his collarbone. Chanyeol is so big, surrounding Kyungsoo, devouring him.

  


When he slides down to his knees on the floor between Kyungsoo’s thighs, Kyungsoo’s brain short-circuits for a moment. It takes him a minute to get back online, and when he does, he enthusiastically helps Chanyeol shimmy the jeans off his hips.

  


They're moving so fast, but he can't think. Can't stop. Stopping is the very last thing he wants to do right now. This is everything that he's wanted for months. The cool air hits his bare thighs as the leather chair sticks to the backs of his legs. It’s a little uncomfortable, but Chanyeol looks absolutely delighted, so he can deal with the discomfort. Besides, when Chanyeol bobs down to lick at the wet patch on the front of Kyungsoo’s sky blue briefs, everything feels rather perfect.

  


Chanyeol likes to tease. He licks Kyungsoo’s cock through the fabric, and traces the damp, hard outline of it with his hot palm until Kyungsoo has to push him away and wrench down the underwear himself. Chanyeol simply laughs lowly, pleased with himself, before he becomes distracted by Kyungsoo impatiently stroking his cock.

  


A clear bead of liquid gathers at the tip, and Kyungsoo watches as Chanyeol licks his lips, hunger clear on his face. It would be so easy to let Chanyeol take him into his mouth and suck him off to what would probably be the best orgasm of his life, but he has other plans. When Chanyeol moves closer, placing one large palm on Kyungsoo’s thigh for balance, to stuff his mouth, Kyungsoo smirks and pushes him away.

  


“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p.’ “You teased the wrong man, Chanyeol. Now you’re not allowed to touch me again until I’ve come. Just watch like a good boy, and maybe I’ll let you taste me afterward.” He feels himself flush in embarrassment. Dirty talk has never been his thing. Fear that he’s messed this all up by being a weirdo makes his hand pause from where he’d been stroking himself.

  


His fears are readily assuaged by Chanyeol’s earnest compliance. The taller man quirks an eyebrow as if to say that they’ll be discussing this newfound kink sometime later (along with everything else they need to discuss), but he dutifully keeps his hands to himself as Kyungsoo slips his eyes closed and jerks off. Chanyeol makes deliciously needy growls as Kyungsoo twists his wrist or pinches and massages a nipple, hips jack knifing forward.

  


It doesn’t take long to finish. Not with the tension between them pooling for months. Not with the flame of Chanyeol’s eyes burning him, desire scorching his skin with each stroke of his palm.

  


Chanyeol gasps as if in pain when Kyungsoo shoots a rope of pearly liquid. A glob of it lands on his chin, and Chanyeol doesn’t ask before diving forward and licking it up. It should be gross, but it’s unexpectedly hot to watch Chanyeol clean him up. His lips are swollen and shiny with Kyungsoo’s release. His tongue is warm and soft as it drags across Kyungsoo's overheated skin. It makes him shudder through the aftershocks until his mind is clear enough to make his next demand known. He wants to touch Chanyeol. He wants to return the pleasure, and memorize each noise and expression he can cause.

  


“Let me,” Kyungsoo tries, pulling Chanyeol to his feet.

  


Chanyeol turns bright red. He tries to step away and pull his shirt down, but Kyungsoo has already seen the large wet stain seeping through. It’s not unfair of him to be smug about it, but he can't quite bring himself to get over how incredibly hot it is to know that simply watching Kyungsoo was enough to get Chanyeol off. Instead of gloating, he hungrily pulls Chanyeol closer by the belt loops and sucks on the wet spot, trying to catch a taste.

  


“Stop, stop,” Chanyeol groans, head thrown back. His chest heaves with each breath. “Too sensitive.”

  


“Hmm… sensitive is not a word I’d use to describe you,” Kyungsoo jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “Obnoxious, maybe. Loud, for sure.” He pulls Chanyeol down with him until they’re both awkwardly tangled together in the chair. Chanyeol swats his arm playfully, but it’s a sleepy, half-hearted protest. “Beautiful, undoubtedly,” he whispers when Chanyeol tucks his head under Kyungsoo’s chin and nuzzles there.

  


The sunrise is just beginning to bleed in through the windows. The room is still mostly dark and quiet, and Kyungsoo can’t gather the energy to get them to move to a bedroom. He shies away from thinking about what Baekhyun and Jongdae will say when they wake up and wander out the living room. He can only pray they’re too tired to pay attention on their way to work. Luckily, Zitao is a late sleeper when he has nothing scheduled for the day. He'd definitely screech like a dying animal, and, although the face he'd make would be hilarious, nobody wants to wake up to that. Not when Kyungsoo has the opportunity to wake up to Chanyeol's soft breaths and gentle heartbeat, their hands tangled together between their chests.

  


“Hey, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says, and the quiet sound is muffled further by the way Chanyeol is burrowed against him. Kyungsoo makes a questioning noise, too tired to play the ignore-Chanyeol-game. The reply is soft. “I really like you.”

  


“I really like you, too.” Kyungsoo smiles before drifting off to sleep with a sleeping Chanyeol blanketing him.

  


When they wake, they’ll have to discuss all the things they’ve left unsaid. But for now, everything is perfect.

  


*****

  


P.S. Baekhyun _is_ a sex therapist. Kyungsoo is absolutely shocked when he takes the files that Jongdae forgot on the kitchen counter to the office to find Baekhyun’s name as a clinical associate listed on the plaque right inside the door. Jongdae is his secretary, and they haven’t been playing an elaborate, drawn out prank. They nearly pee themselves laughing when he tells them he thought that’s what they’d been doing the whole time.

  


P.P.S. Junmyeon’s next book is an instant best-seller. He’s looking into property in the mountains. Maybe a nice ski lodge.

  


P.P.P.S. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol are ridiculously happy together even though Kyungsoo still likes the ignore-Chanyeol-game, and Chanyeol is really loud and touchy feely. It’s wonderful. And Jongin and Seulgi hit it off, so neither of them have to worry about sexy exes appearing out of the blue to mess things up. (Kyungsoo wisely doesn’t mention the postcard from China that shows up at Christmas.)

  


P.P.P.P.S. Despite his earlier predictions about living in Junmyeon’s house with four strangers--one of whom happens to be a tall, handsome music nerd--Kyungsoo does, in fact, not regret any of it.  
  
---


End file.
